


Remembered Rhythms & Small Surprises

by tender_is_the_ghost



Series: Connor and Tracy [4]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Children, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Love, POV Second Person, Reconciliation, Romance, Sex, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_is_the_ghost/pseuds/tender_is_the_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor's homecoming is long overdue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembered Rhythms & Small Surprises

 

The merest whisper of a breeze stirs the leaves on the tree at your back, dappling the grass in front of you with patches of brilliant sunshine. You close your eyes for a minute, tipping your head back and enjoying the changing patterns on your eyelids, wishing you could have more days like this. A soft, gurgling sound has you blinking open your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you focus in on your baby sitting happily on the blanket you’ve spread out in the tree’s shade. You reach out to stroke the downy blond hair covering his scalp, eliciting a tiny giggle from him as you tickle the back of his neck. His face tips up to yours, his chubby fingers grasping for your hand, and your heart lurches at the sight of his father’s eyes staring back at you from his cherubic face. Sadness chills you like a cloud passing across the sun as you think about Connor, wondering as always where he is and if he’s alive and well. He's been gone for almost two years without any word after he, Murphy and Romeo were taken to Hoag and, while it certainly hasn’t been easy, you’ve somehow managed to make a life for yourself and your baby back in Ireland.

Before you left Boston to return home, you had found out from Doc that Connor’s father had been killed in the shootout that had put them in prison. You had been unaware that he'd even returned to the city while you were there and the news of his death had hit you hard, knowing the devastation it would wreak on the MacManus twins. Fearful for your safety in any kind of retaliatory action, Connor had insisted you come back home to Ireland, having Doc make all the arrangements to get you swiftly out of the country before anyone could connect you to the Saints. And so, you had left, without even the chance to say goodbye in person, uncertain of his fate and carrying the secret of your pregnancy with you.

 Back home, you had tried to adjust to your old life again, going back to work in the pub until your pregnancy made it impossible. You tried to keep in touch with Doc as much as possible, desperate for any news of Connor and the others but, at the same time, dreading what he would tell you. Scouring the internet for news only brought you conflicting stories, fuelling your frustration. It seemed that, while the infamous Saints were being held to face trial, a slew of copycat vigilantes had sprung up across the country dividing the nation in their views on whether what they were doing were acts of justice or not. While the judicial branches argued endlessly back and forth over what repercussions these copycats should have for the Saints’ case, if any, the Saints themselves remained stoically quiet. While their lawyers argued against them being held accountable for the crimes being perpetrated in their names, the Saints refused to speak to anyone except for a select handful of people.

The bickering between lawyers on both sides had dragged on and on, only adding fire to the already volatile media circus that was surrounding the case until you had thought you would go mad trying to keep up with it all. Finally things had come to an abrupt end when you had logged onto your computer one morning and seen the news you’d been half-expecting for months. They were out. In an escape that had baffled officials and had everyone rushing to lay the blame at each other’s feet, the Saints along with Romeo had simply vanished overnight from a maximum security prison under the very noses of the press and supporters who were keeping vigil outside the oppressive stone walls. You had sat at your Da’s kitchen table, tears streaming down your face, elated to know that Connor was free. Although you weren’t expecting him to turn up on your doorstep anytime soon, you at least allowed yourself to hope that he might somehow get a message to you. If Doc knew where they had gone, he was being tight-lipped about it and your frustration at not knowing grew more and more as your due date approached. But there was nothing, no call, no letter, no anonymous email in your inbox and, once the baby was born, you had come to the very real and heartbreaking conclusion that it was likely that you would never hear from Connor MacManus again. You’d thrown yourself into your new role as a mother, ignoring the whispered conversations and sideways glances that occurred in the village every time you ventured out. It was tough but now, sitting here on a beautiful day like today, watching your son happily playing in front of you, you knew that it was all worth it.

With your mind still half in the past, wrapped in memories of the life you’d had with Connor, you spot the figure of a man coming up the hill towards you. He's clad in worn, dark blue jeans and a figure-hugging black t-shirt showing off his toned physique and you smile to yourself, indulging in the fantasy you’ve had a hundred times before. As he gets nearer and his features resolve into the familiar lines of Connor’s face, you feel the familiar aching combination in your chest of love and loss. When he draws level with you, coming to stand silently at the edge of the blanket, you stare up at him wanting to hold the image of him in your mind as long as possible. With a jolt, you realize that something is different this time, that the Connor in front of you now is subtly different from the Connor of your daydreams. His hair is cropped shorter than you remember, almost shaved at the sides, and his face is carrying more lines than before as well as two new scars on his cheek and forehead. Your heart starts trip-hammering in your chest, your mouth is suddenly bone-dry and you blink furiously as if trying to dispel the apparition in front of you.

“Connor?”

Your voice is barely more than a shocked whisper as if you’re frightened that he’ll disappear at the very sound of it. That one word from you brings him crashing to his knees in front of you, tears falling from his eyes as he reaches out to pull you to him and you find yourself enveloped in his familiar scent. You’re in shock, your mind reeling, unable to comprehend that he's really here but the solid press of his body against yours and the feel of his hands running across your skin tell you that he's real enough. Your own dam breaks and you sob uncontrollably in his arms, letting go of all the tears you’ve been holding inside since he's been gone, tears that you’ve held onto to stay strong for the baby. Connor holds you tightly against him, making soothing noises against your hair as his hands keep up their relentless caresses almost as if he's trying to reassure himself that you’re real too. You’re not sure how long you stay locked together like that, clinging wordlessly to one another until all your tears are spent and the scope of your world is reduced to the sound of Connor’s heart beating under your cheek.

Eventually a cheerful gurgling from your son breaks the moment and Connor loosens his grip on you a little to stare at the child on the blanket beside you. Unable to contain the smile that’s breaking across your face, you lean over to scoop the baby into your arms and turn back to Connor.

“I’d like you to meet your son – Noah,” you tell him, handing him the baby. “Noah, this is your Da.”

You watch as he cradles the baby in his arms, a look of wonder on his face when Noah wraps Connor’s finger in his tiny fist and chuckles happily to himself. Tearing his gaze from his son, Connor stretches out his free hand to slide around the back of your neck and draw you to him. There’s a moment’s hesitation before his lips meet yours and you can feel the weight of your separation and everything you’ve both endured hanging between you like a physical entity. Then his lips are on yours, firm and warm, and your time apart fades into nothingness as you lose yourself in the familiarity of his kiss.

Noah moving between you cuts short the kiss and you both settle into more comfortable positions with Connor releasing his wriggling son back onto the blanket and then taking your hands in his.

“Tracy-“

“Connor-“

You both laugh lightly as you start talking at the same time and Connor defers to you with a nod of his head.

“Doc told me about your Da, Con, I’m so sorry,” you tell him, squeezing his hands as you see the sadness laying heavy in his eyes.

“Thank ya, lass. You know he thought the world of you. He would’ve been so proud of this little feller. It means a lot to me that you named him after the old man and it will to Murph too. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Tracy, so sorry. It must’ve been so hard for you going through this alone. Doc updated me when he could, told me when he’d spoken to you but he never mentioned the baby.”

“He didn’t know,” you interrupt. “I thought it was better that way, safer for you. I know you, Connor MacManus, if you’d known about the baby, you’d have been trying to get here without a thought for yourself. I needed you to be alive and free, not risking everything to get back here before it was safe.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to do this by yourself, it wasn’t fair on you.”

“I wasn’t by myself, I had my Da and Mick and Susan at the pub have been so good to me. You can’t feel guilty about it Connor. It was what it was. Nothing could have changed the way things worked out but you’re here now and that’s all that matters. You’re here, you’re healthy and we’re together. Everything else is history. Right? It’s over now?”

“It’s over,” he reassures you, leaning his forehead against yours. “We can’t ever go back. A lot of good people stuck their necks out to get us back here, make sure we’d be left in peace and it was a one-time deal. The Saints have officially retired.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands and tilting his head back up to look at you. “You’ve done your piece, Connor, and the world is better for it but now you have to let it go. Can you do that?”

“I hope so,” he replies earnestly. “I want to, for you and for Noah. I promise you I’ll try, Tracy-love.”

“Then I can’t ask for anything more,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his in another long kiss.

Connor’s hand slides down your back, gently rubbing circles over your spine as his lips move from yours to plant kisses against your cheeks and forehead before drawing you into his arms to rest against his chest.

“I’m home,” he murmurs, his voice and the sincerity of his words sending a shiver down your spine. “I promise you I’m never leaving you again.”

You wrap your fingers with his, leaning against the solid warmth of him and praying that it’s true.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You spend the afternoon together, catching each other up on everything that’s happened since you were last together. You’re overjoyed to find that both Murphy and Romeo have come back with Connor, although he confesses that he's not too sure how well Romeo is going to adjust to life on a sheep farm. As the sun starts to wane, you gather up the baby’s things and make your way back to the farmhouse you share with your Da. Pushing open the kitchen door, you’re immediately enveloped in a crushing hug from Murphy who lifts you off your feet to swing you into the air.

“Put me down ya crazy fool,” you squeal but you hug him back just as tight.

He drops your feet back to the floor as he catches sight of Connor coming through the door behind you with baby Noah perched in his arms.

“Are ya fuckin’ kidding me?” he exclaims, looking from you to Connor.

“Murph, mind your language,” you admonish him sternly but tears well in your eyes as you watch him lift Noah from Connor’s protective embrace and raise him up to take a good look at his new nephew.

“What’s his name?” Murphy asks, wiggling the plump baby in his strong hands as Noah giggles back at him.

“Noah Connor Murphy William Romeo MacManus,” you tell him and you see the shine in his eyes as he nods his head in approval.

A small snuffling noise behind you reminds you that there’s somebody you haven’t greeted yet and you turn to find Romeo wiping his wet cheeks with hurried swipes of his fingertips.

“Something in the air here,” he coughs gruffly as he catches you looking at him.

“Yeah, that happens a lot with new visitors,” you chuckle, reaching out to pull him into a hug, trying to ignore the puckered scar that’s now running from his ear to his chin.

“I’m honored,” he whispers in your ear before letting you go.

“Sit down, lads, you’re making the place look untidy,” comes your Da’s voice from the end of the table where he’s looking proudly at his extended family. “Tracy, put the kettle on love and bring me that whiskey bottle you’ve been hiding in the pantry that you think I don’t know about.”

Everyone moves to sit at the table, Connor taking Noah back from Murphy who grumbles in protest while you fill the kettle and retrieve the whiskey from its hiding place, making a mental note to find a new one later. With everyone nursing a steaming cup of tea laced with a generous shot of whiskey, your Da raises his mug and makes a toast to the boys’ father which everyone echoes. A heavy silence follows, even Noah being unusually subdued as he senses the atmosphere in the room around him.

“Did you come straight here?” you ask suddenly, spotting the heap of travelling bags by the back door.

“Of course, love, where else would we go?” Connor replies softly, caught up with playing with his son.

“Back to your Da’s place.”

“We didn’t think there’d be any point,” Murphy butts in. “We figured the old man had sold the place before he left to pay for his trip.”   

“Oh no, lad,” your Da tells them with a twinkle in his eye. “You don’t think the old feller would leave you high and dry, do ya? He had every faith that you boys would be coming home. He left the farm for me to take care of for ya, got some other fellers workin’ it until you come back. We just need to get you to the bank and have the paperwork signed over. He left you quite the nest-egg as well, ya know. He was certainly a canny one with his cash was your Da. You’d never have known it to look at the state of the place because that was how he liked it but you boys are set for life, ya know.”

“But -,” Murphy starts then can’t finish his thought.

“He never said anything to us,” Connor says, the color draining from his face.

“Aye, that would be about right for that old fart. Let you lads think you were as poor as dirt and then ‘surprise!’ We’ll have to see about letting the other fellers go if that’s what you want to do, they knew it wasn’t going to be permanent anyway. Tomorrow we can go to the bank and get everything straightened out but you’re more than welcome to stay here tonight.”

“How can we?” Murphy asks in confusion. “Go to the bank, I mean. We’re not exactly supposed to be here and we can’t exactly use our real names.”

“Ah, don’t you worry your heads about that none, boys, don’t you think your Da took care of that too? Got him a nice secure safety deposit box with all the paperwork you two will need to start a new life, birth certificates, passports, everything. Just as he did when he wanted to disappear. Your father made a lot of interesting contacts over the years and he was always ready for this eventuality. Although, Romeo, you were not part of the equation,” your Da chuckles, “but we can soon take care of that too as long as the lads here are willing to part with a little cash on your behalf.”

“Ah, now I don’t know about that,” Connor says, leaning back in his seat with a shit-eating grin on his face. “What do ya think, Murph, is that something you think we should be wastin’ our inheritance on?”

“That’s a good question, Connor. Maybe Rome can work it off, be our lackey or somethin’ until he’s paid us back.”

As the conversation degenerates into the usual argumentative banter that happens with these three, you scoop Noah out of Connor’s arms and head up the stairs with him, feeling strangely at peace with the voices raised good-naturedly below you. As you lay Noah down in his crib, you realize that you’re shedding huge tears over him, the emotion of having your family back together finally sinking in to become a reality that you’d thought may never happen.

The rest of the evening passes with all of you sitting around the kitchen table while the boys fill you in on their escapades since their prison break, the small room full of warmth and laughter, Connor’s hand never once leaving yours. Eventually your Da calls time on the stories which seem to be getting more outrageous by the minute and declares he's going to bed. With him gone, you set about turning the sofa in the front room into a makeshift bed for Romeo, apologizing that you only have one spare room upstairs as the second is now Noah’s nursery. He dismisses your apology with a wave, telling you that the sofa is like a slice of heaven after some of the places he’s been sleeping lately. After checking on Noah, you head into the bathroom, passing the door to Murphy’s room where he and Connor are having a conversation in hushed tones. When you come back out, Murphy’s door is closed tight and, as you head down the hallway to your own room, you realize with a momentary flash of trepidation that Connor is going to be waiting for you. With your heart beating a little faster, you push open your door and go in, closing it behind you. Connor is sitting on the bed, boots and shirt off, and you have a weird moment of deja-vu, suddenly feeling as nervous as you did the first time you ever brought him in here. You can feel his eyes on you as you cross to the other side of the bed, sitting the baby monitor in your hand down on the nightstand and fiddling with the volume, your hands trembling slightly.

“Tracy,” Connor’s voice is soft behind you as you hear him get up from the bed and walk around to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Connor, I - ,” you begin and then stop, not knowing how to put into words the way that you’re feeling right now, how you’re aching to have him touch you and be with you but, at the same time, you feel like you’re the same self-conscious woman he seduced in this room a million years ago.

“I’ve missed you, love,” he breathes against your neck, gently brushing your hair back from your skin to press his lips there in a warm kiss that has you leaning heavily back into his embrace. “I’ve spent a lot of lonely nights in places you can’t even imagine where the only thought that’s kept me warm is you, of coming home and being able to hold you in my arms like this again. And I’m still not sure that this isn’t a dream and I’m not going to wake up in some filthy motel room in the middle of nowhere or in the belly of a cargo ship with nothing but stinking, dirty men for company but let me tell you something, Tracy-love. Right now, there’s nothin’ I’d love more than getting naked with you and showing you just how much I’ve missed you but I understand if you need to take some time to adjust. I’ve been gone a long time and a lot has happened to both of us so, if you’re not ready, I get that and I’m ready to wait as long as it takes for you to be comfortable. If you want, I can go shack up with Murph for now, it’s not a problem, or I can just lay next to you and hold you all night, whatever you need. Just tell me what you want, love?”

You close your eyes, crossing your arms over the one he has wrapped around your stomach, leaning your head against his and just breathing in his scent. Inhaling deeply, you turn in his embrace to face him, slowly letting out your breath as you trace your fingertips over the lines of his chest, ghosting over the silvery lines of scars new and old. He holds still and silent as your hands slide up his neck to capture his face, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“I want you,” you tell him simply and lean up into him to press your lips to his in an eager kiss.

You feel his fingers tighten on your hips, curling into the soft fabric of your summer dress, as you part your lips to him and slide your tongue against his. The kisses you had shared that afternoon were full of love and longing, a manifestation of all your feelings in the time that you were apart, but this kiss is different. His tongue rolls over yours, your teeth clashing with his and your breath burning in your lungs as you each strive to devour the other, the heat of your passion building furiously between you. With fumbling hands, shaking a little from the adrenalin spiking in your veins, you tug at his belt and his jeans until you have them loose and falling to the floor. A thrill of anticipation runs through you as you run your hand down over his abdomen to wrap around the thick shaft of his cock. You’ve missed him, missed this intimacy more than you’d dare to admit to yourself and feeling the weight of him hot against your palm has you making a keening sound deep in your throat. Stroking him firmly, you feel him twitch in your grasp and his teeth sink momentarily into your lower lip before he sucks it hard and then releases you with a throaty gasp.

“Tracy,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours for a second while you work your fingers around him.

With a grunt of effort, he places his larger hand over yours, stilling your motion and pulling your fingers from him to lift them to his lips and kiss them, turning over your palm to tickle it with the stubble on his chin.

“If you keep that up, lass, I’m goin’ at be comin’ before we even begin and I don’t even want to think about that happenin’ if I’m not buried inside you.”

Your pussy aches at his words, the wetness of your arousal already slicking your folds as he moves to undress you, peeling your dress up off over your head and quickly unhooking your bra. When your breasts are free, he dips his head to taste each of your nipples with his tongue, teasing them until you’re pushing your fingers into his hair and moaning softly under your breath. He kisses his way back up your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin behind your ear and you can feel the hard press of his erection leaking against your stomach.

“Shit, I’d forgotten how fucking good you can make me feel, Connor,” you tell him quietly as his fingers scrape across your stomach and he shoves your panties down over your hips for you to wriggle out of.

With a wicked grin, he lowers you backwards onto the bed, moving to cover your body with his as he continues licking and sucking at your skin. You shift under him, wanting him to be inside you already, trying to maneuver under the press of his body and the bed gives a groaning creak beneath you that sounds thunderous in the silent house. Freezing in position, Connor raises his head from where he’s licking your nipple and looks up at you with a small chuckle.

“And I’d forgotten about the soundtrack your bed gives every time we move. It was okay when it was just your Da in the house because he wouldn’t hear a damn parade even if it was marchin’ through his room but I don’t think Rome and Murph need to have a blow by blow account of what’s going on in here, do you?”

“No,” you hiss as he climbs off of you to stand up, frustrated that he’s going to suggest postponing your reunion until you have more privacy, “but what can we do?”

“Get creative,” he tells you, reaching down to pull you up from the bed with a wink.

He leads you across the room to your dresser, a solid oak antique that hasn’t moved position in at least thirty years, and you smile widely as he lifts you to rest your ass on its edge. You lift your legs to wrap around his back, pulling him close enough that the head of his cock is brushing against your dripping pussy. He crushes his lips against yours again, his hands fondling your breasts, caressing the arch of your back and then stroking along the thighs you have wrapped around him as if he needs to touch every part of you to reassure himself you’re really there.

Pulling your lips from his, both of you already panting slightly, you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip against you while he groans in pleasure.

“Connor…” you urge him, tightening your fingers on his shoulders.

Sliding his hands around under your buttocks, he raises you just enough that he can slip comfortably inside you and you can feel his skin trembling under your fingertips. He watches your face the whole time as slowly he opens you up, inch by inch, his teeth bared in a feral grin of ecstasy. Hooking your legs over his arms, he begins a slow thrust into you, both of you taking a minute to find your remembered rhythm before he increases his pace. You let go of his shoulders, leaning back on your hands, pushing various trinkets out of your way with total disregard and tilting your head back as the sensation of him filling you overwhelms your senses. His mouth finds the jiggling curve of your breasts, his lips pulling at your nipples until you’re biting your lip so as not to scream out loud. You sit back up, wrapping your arms about his neck and shoulders as he pumps harder into you, grunting softly into the crook of your neck. Squeezing around him, you feel him stretching you open with every thrust and you want to come so bad you can feel your pussy throbbing around him.

“I can’t… I can’t hold on, lass,” he pants, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“Then don’t,” you answer, tightening your ankles at his back and tugging on his hair.

“Fuuuck, Tracy,” he moans and you can feel him pounding harder for a split second and then his cock is jerking inside of you as he comes and you feel your own climax ripple through your body.

He thrusts against you, sweat dripping from his skin to slide against yours as you let yourself go to your orgasm, squeezing and releasing him until you’re both shuddering together. The blood is rushing in your ears and your limbs feel like they’ve turned to rubber but the sensations of pure bliss radiating out from your pussy have you whimpering as you press your lips to Connor’s collarbone in a series of frantic kisses. Carefully he releases his grip on you, sliding your legs down to the floor where you stand, wrapped tight around him as he kisses you deeply, taking his time as your bodies get back to normal.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss.

“Hmmm?” you reply, lost in running your fingers over the skin of his chest.

“Sorry it wasn’t, you know… more,” he says sheepishly. “It’s just been so fuckin’ long and you’re so fuckin’ sexy, woman. Wee Connor got a little too excited.”

“Con, it was perfect,” you tell him with a soft laugh, “I could barely hold on either. It just felt so fucking good to have you inside me again. Besides, we have all the time in the world to get caught up. There’ll be slow times to come and fast again, I’m sure, when I just need you so bad I want you to take me as hard and as fast as you can.”

“Ah, I’ve missed the way you think, Tracy-love,” Connor smiles, taking your hand and nudging you back to the bed.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him before he can climb onto the mattress.

Quickly, you pull the top blanket and comforter from the bed, shaking them out to lay them on the floor and then you grab a couple of pillows and toss them down to create a makeshift bed on the floor.

“I think I might be needing one of those slow times in a little while,” you inform him in response to the eyebrow he’s raising at you. “No point in getting comfy in the bed if we’re just going to have to find a quieter location again.”

Connor laughs as he sinks to his knees on the soft, deep comforter, pulling you down next to him and covering both of you in the blanket. You snuggle into his side, finding your body molding into the familiar position you’ve always taken and his arm wraps comfortably around you, keeping you close to him.

“Welcome home, Connor,” you sigh, bringing his hand to your lips to lay light kisses across his knuckles. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Aye, me too, lass, me too.”       


End file.
